War Wounds and Legacies
by Calypso C
Summary: Nineteen years later, Harry Potter claims all is well. But war wounds don't ever really heal, and Scorpius, Albus, and Rose navigate their first year at Hogwarts amidst the legacy of those dark times and a series of muggleborn murders that threaten to rip apart the wizarding community.
1. The Beginning

**Prologue**

The sky was cloudless and a full moon hung in the sky. The air was warm and sticky, but despite this, Meredith trudged down the street lit by moonlight in a heavy black cloak, the hood pulled up to hide her face. She'd spend the evening at the local muggle pub and was starting to think the last couple of drinks hadn't been the best idea.

She swayed to one side before straightening up and kept walking. She only had a few more blocks to go. As she crossed a deserted street, she paused. Were those footsteps? Meredith stood there, listening. After a few moments of silence, she continued down the street.

There they were again. This time, she whirled around, pulling her cloak lower. The street was empty, aside from a few pieces of trash blowing on a slight breeze.

Meredith turned around, but reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand, gripping it tightly. She picked up her pace a bit, her footsteps echoing. She glanced down at her wand, and then at her forearm. Although the scars had faded slightly over time, one could clearly read _Mudblood_ , spelled out in perfect penmanship.

Her knuckles turned white and her other hand clenched into a fist. Nineteen years had past since she'd acquired her scar, and she liked to think of it as a reminder. A reminder that she was a survivor. A reminder that she was strong.

As she turned onto her street, she heard them for the third time. Footsteps. Ducking into a dark alley, she waited, her heart thumping. She raised her wand and opened her mouth. The spell was ready to escape her lips.

Her left hand started to tremble, but her wand hand didn't waver. The footsteps grew closer and closer. They had to be turning around the corner soon. One. Two. Three-

Meredith yelled, "STUPEFY!" and a beam of red light lit up the street. She glanced down at the body on the pavement, and let out a sigh of relief. It was just a stray cat. She shook her head. She was getting old, but the two previous wars made sure her reflexes were still lightning quick. Paranoia did that to you. It also made sure her nights were often sleepless, but that was another matter.

She took a step out of the alley, then hesitated. What if there was someone else out there? She considered it. Perhaps she was just paranoid. But perhaps not. She hadn't survived wars by being reckless.

Meredith fell back into the alley's shadows and waited. Straining her ears, she heard just the slightest scuff against the pavement. Her breath caught in her throat. She raised her wand once again and wet her lips.

Another scuff. Then silence. A few minutes passed by. Finally, she heard a footstep. Then another one. A man with a large nose rounded the corner, hands at his side, looking at the other side of the street. Meredith hesitated.

Just as she was about to put her wand away, she felt a cold barrel pressed against the back of her head.

"You scream, I shoot, sweetheart," a low voice said from behind her. The man on the street kept walking, not noticing the alley.

Meredith cursed herself for being so stupid. "What do you want?" she demanded, still gripping her wand tightly.

"Just a bit of fun," the man said, with an malicious lilt to his voice. He put his arm on her shoulder to yank her around, the gun slipping off her head for a moment, and she used the momentum to spin and scream, "STUPEFY!"

The beam of red light hit the man in the chest, just as he pulled the trigger, the gun going off with a loud bang. The man flew into the alley wall just as something pierced her leg. Meredith gasped and clutched her thigh. The man lay on the ground, his head at an unnatural angle.

Meredith stared at the body. She knew death when she saw it.

She pulled up her hood once again, conjured a bandage around her leg, and set off down the street as quickly as she could. Sirens already pierced the air. The muggle police would show up soon.

Meredith locked her door behind her and didn't look back. If she had, she might have seen the man with a large nose staring at her apartment.


	2. Ghosts and Leprechauns

CHAPTER ONE: **Ghosts and Leprechauns**

* * *

"Mother," Scorpius complained with a sigh, "my robes are perfectly suitable."

Astoria Malfoy frowned and gave her son a cross look. "You will look presentable when you get on that train, or so help me, I'll get Telli to show up in your dorm and fold all your underwear in front of your roommates." Scorpius crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, but allowed his mother to finish fixing his robes.

"There," Astoria said, giving them one last tug. "Perfect. Doesn't he look dashing, Draco?" Astoria turned toward her husband, who was not paying attention. Across the platform, as the steam shifted for a few seconds, four figures stared.

Draco nodded curtly and turned back to his family. "I'm sorry, Tori. What did you say?"

Scorpius leaned past his mother in interest, but another family blocked his view of whoever his father had been staring at. "Who were they?"

"I said," Astoria repeated with a tad bit of exasperation in her voice, "doesn't our only son look dashing?"

"Mummm," Scorpius said. "I don't look dashing. I look normal."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, but it does appear you look dashing, Scorp." He gave a small smile.

Scorpius sighed and glanced over his shoulder. "Who were they, though, really, dad?"

Draco's smile disappeared. "It appears the Potter's and the Weasley's are here dropping off their children."

Scorpius turned around for a better look, but they must have disappeared. Potter and Weasley. In the rest of the wizarding world, those names were famous. In his family, they were more along the lines of infamous.

Astoria put a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Are you alright, Draco?"

Draco shook her hand off irritably, and toyed with the silver ring on his hand. "Yes, yes. I'm fine. Scorpius, the train is about to leave."

Scorpius let his mum hug him and nodded as she told him to make his family proud. Draco put his hands on his only sons' shoulders, as the whistle for the train blew.

"Scorpius, I'm very proud of you." Draco didn't directly meet his son's eyes, but instead looked somewhere over his right shoulder. Scorpius was used to it, though.

"But dad," he pointed out, "I haven't done anything to proud of."

Draco opened his mouth just as the last whistle sounded. The train began to chug down the track. Scorpius gave one last hug to his parents before sprinting after the Hogwart's Express, jumping on with seconds to spare. The train picked up speed and rounded a corner, his parents waving forlornly in the steam.

Scorpius turned around and prepared himself for the train ride ahead. In his experience, it was always better to be prepared.

The train corridor was filled with students laughing and shouting, friends hugging, owls hooting, and the explosions of a game of exploding snap. Several older students with prefect badges on were attempting to corral the younger students into compartments, but they weren't having much success.

Scorpius smirked and avoided the prefects (he was not having someone telling him where and whom to sit with) and continued down the train.

Most of the compartments were already filled. He passed by two with older looking students, who, if he was being completely honest, were a little intimidating. Various colors- red, green, blue, yellow- adorned their robes and ties.

He felt his stomach do an odd flip flop and he decided it was much better to focus on finding a place to sit than think about anything else at the moment, particularly the sorting.

Getting on late, though, seemed to mean that there were no more empty compartments. It wasn't until he reached the end of the train that he found one sparsely occupied. A boy sat alone, staring out the window earnestly. Glancing around, Scorpius slid the door opened and leaned inside.

"So, are there dancing hippogryphs outside the window, or are you just mindlessly staring?" Scorpius cracked a grin, folded his arms, and leaned against the wall. The boy jumped and whipped around, hands clenched on the seat. The boy relaxed once he saw Scorpius, probably because Scorpius was clearly a fellow first-year.

"Can I sit here?" Scorpius inclined his head to the empty seat across from the boy. "Everywhere else is either full or had couples sucking each other's faces off."

"Yeah!" the boy said, gesturing to the seat. "Feel free. Although I'll warn you in advance, my cousin is going to show up eventually, and she's a bit crazy." He ran a hand through his messy black hair, and nervously fiddled with his shirt buttons.

Scorpius chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure I can handle your cousin." When the boy didn't respond, curiously, he asked, "You okay? You seem a bit...preoccupied."

"What?" The boy turned to look at Scorpius. "Oh-sorry. It's just, you know, the Sorting."

Scorpius nodded reverently. All first years spoke of sorting with the utmost respect and-often times-dread. "My dad told me not to freak out about it, but it's kind of intimidating, don't you think?"

"Mine too!" the boy exclaimed, waving his hands. "He acted like it wasn't a big deal-nothing to worry about. But what if I'm not in the same house as my family?"

With surprise, Scorpius replied, "That's what I'm worried about, too." The boys regarded each other, sizing the other up. Finally, to break the silence, Scorpius pulled down one of his bags and grabbed a flimsy book with moving cartoon characters on the front. "I don't really want to think about that though." Almost sheepishly, he held up the comic book. "You don't like _Wonder Wizard,_ do you? It'll take our minds off the Sorting."

"Like it?" the boy asked incredulously. "Who doesn't?" He eagerly took the comic book in his hands. "No way! This is one where we first meet _The Deadly Dementors_! They're-"

"-the best villians in the whole comic book series," Scorpius interrupted brightly. Opening the front cover, he pointed at the cover page. "It's the special edition, too, with the-"

"-backstory of Professor Boggart and Celia Casey!"

The boys grinned at each other.

"I can't believe you're a _Wonder Wizard_ fan," the boy said excitedly. He sighed despondently. "My brother and sister both think it's stupid and all of my cousins-of which there are a very many, I promise-always make fun of it."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow, curious. "I don't have very many cousins," he admitted. "There's a girl on my mom's side, but she's only six and won't shut up about 'Lacy Glimmer: Queen of the Fairies'."

The boy groaned. "That's the worst! My sister is into all that, and she tells me _I_ have bad taste."

"You know, I don't think we ever introduced ourselves," Scorpius realized. He stuck out a pale hand. "Scorpius Malfoy."

The boy's eyes widened as he took Scorpius' hand. "Albus Potter." A lengthy silence occurred, with each boy wondering how the boy their parents had warned them against could be so...normal.

"So...I guess our parents knew each other in school," Albus said slowly, staring at Scorpius with new interest.

Scorpius knew that many people still resented the Malfoy family for whose side they had been on during the Wizarding Wars; after all, he'd gotten enough glares when he was walking with his parents to know. He also knew that many pure-blood families were still married to the old ways, but his parents had instilled upon him to learn from past mistakes. But, then again, he'd never encountered his father's old enemies' kid before.

"Knew each other?" Scorpius snorted gleefully. "They _hated_ each other's guts more than Dementors hate happiness, from what I've heard!" He leaned back and rested his hands behind his head, cockily looking at Albus. "My dad even warned me about you guys, the Weasley's and the Potter's, before I came." Growing slightly more serious, he added, "But we're not exactly our parents, right?" He frowned slightly and shook his head. "Even if we _do_ both look like them."

Albus opened his mouth, looking slightly uncomfortable, when the door slammed opened and a violently red-headed girl launched herself at the seat next to Albus.

"You would not _believe_ what I just went through," she exclaimed in a very loud voice. Seeming to notice Scorpius for the first time, she added, "Who's the vampire?" She squinted. "He could also very well be a ghost."

He shrugged and grinned. "At least I'm not a leprechaun."

Instinctively, the girl put a hand to her wild, curly, red hair. "I couldn't possibly be a leprechaun. I'm much too tall," she retorted. She stood up, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow, challenging him. "And who do you think _you_ are, ghostie?"

Scorpius gracefully stood up and adopted a smug look, giving Albus a wink. Albus, however, seemed to be preoccupied with the girl. He put a hand on her shoulder, and pleaded, "Rose! Don't do anything rash-"

"I'm Scorpius Malfoy," Scorpius interrupted, slightly disappointed to note that the girl was a little taller than him. "And you're Rose Weasley," he tacked on, purely to see her shocked expression. Looking extremely self satisfied, Scorpius glanced at Albus, who had his head buried in his hands.

" _Malfoy_?" Rose asked Albus incredulously. She turned back to Scorpius, and eyed him up and down. "Don't know why I didn't see it before-you look just like your Death Eater Fath-"

" _Rose!_ " Albus jumped up and gave Scorpius an apologetic look. "Your dad told you not to marry him, but you can at least be nice!" Rose's face flushed to match her hair.

Scorpius' grin faded a bit. He looked unsurely between Albus and his cousin. "My father is not a Death Eater," he said a bit coldly. "And, in any case, I am _not_ my father." He glared at Rose.

Rose met his gaze fiercely. "And I am not a leprechaun," she challenged, but a smile twerked at the edge of her mouth. Scorpius heard Albus let out a deep breath and collapsed back into his seat. Scorpius backed off a bit and let loose a grin.

"No, you're a Weasley," he teased back, relaxing. Honestly, this was going probably the best that he could expect.

Albus sucked in his breath, and Rose's face darkened. "What did you say?" she asked menacingly, her hand gripping her wand.

Scorpius looked at Albus, bewildered. "I said you're a Weasley," he repeated with confusion. Albus shook his head violently, but it was too late.

"Oh, and that makes me beneath you, doesn't it?" Rose challenged, pointing a finger at his chest. "At least my parents didn't party with Voldemort!"

The whole compartment froze, and even Rose seemed a little shocked at what she had said.

Scorpius clenched his hands and teeth, fury rippling through him like lightning. "Well at least I'm not a blood traitor!" It was out before he could stop himself. He didn't know why he'd said it...well, he did, actually, but he knew he shouldn't have. He didn't really believe that blood traitor nonsense, even if Rose had gone too far.

"You little-" Rose snarled, raising her wand. Albus looked faint, and who knew what might have happened if a drawling voice hadn't interrupted them.

"Well, well, well, we were looking for you," a girl with dirty blonde hair and a smirk on her face said. "We should have know Scorpius Malfoy would be ruffling the feathers of a mud-ggleborns."

Scorpius groaned inwardly. Reluctantly, he said, "Cassandra, what do you want?"

Rose looked about ready to explode. Behind Cassandra were two more boys; one was tall and broad shouldered, and the other had the same long nose and blonde hair as Cassandra. Scorpius recognized them instantly.

"We were just looking for you. We've got a compartment down the corridor. Thought you'd like to sit with us, instead of these..." Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "People."

"I'd really rather not-" Scorpius began, but Cassandra didn't let him finish. She grabbed his arm and yanked him out into the hallway, telling the broad shouldered boy, Rutherford, to grab Scorpius' stuff. Scorpius saw Albus talking to a still fuming Rose as he was pulled away down the corridor.

 _Well,_ he thought gloomily, _that went well._

A few minutes later Scorpius was seated in Cassandra's compartment. He sighed and crossed his arms. "What do you guys want?"

Cassandra Carrow, her brother Cailan, and Rutherford Nott were all frequent visitors to the Malfoy mansion-that is, his grandparent's house. His grandfather liked to throw get-togethers with families from the "old days". His parents did their best to not attend, but sometimes it was unavoidable. His father had told him to play nice and not get on their bad side, so he had tolerated them. But this was too much.

Cailan looked surprised. "You're our friend right? Besides, why would a Malfoy like you want to hang out with those Weasley and Potter losers?"

Rutherford laughed meanly. "Mudbloods, all of them."

Scorpius shot Rutherford a glare. "Don't use that kind of language." Cassandra lounged back lazily on a seat.

"Oh, don't be so cross, Scorpius. Nobody can hear us in here." She gave him a grin. "And in Slytherin, nobody will care anyway."

Scorpius gritted his teeth. "Listen, I don't know about you, but I don't want Slytherin to have a bad name forever."

Cailan eyed him strangely. "Oh, come off it. Don't tell me the Malfoy's have gone soft?"

"If by soft, you mean getting over pureblood supremacy, then yes, we have," Scorpius retorted, fed up with the lot of them.

Cassandra sat up, shocked. "What, are you a little mudblood-loving-blood-traitor, then, Scorpius?"

Rutherford squinted his eyes at Scorpius, who felt a twinge of nervousness. Rutherford was a good four inches taller than him and thirty pounds heavier.

"Well, I'm not a Death Eater married to the old ways," Scorpius finally said.

Coldly, Cassandra stood up and said, "I'd never thought I'd seen the day when a Malfoy wouldn't deny loving mudbloods."

"Oh, yes," Scorpius drawled, rolling his eyes. "At the ripe old age of eleven."

Rutherford scowled. "Just get out, Scorpius, if you don't want to be here."

"I will, then," Scorpius said. He took his trunk and opened the sliding door out into the corridor. He glared at all three of them. "And you'll stop acting like that if you know what's good for you."

"No," Cailan said, "You'll stop acting like this. Because no matter how much you pretend, you're not one of them!" He laughed coldly. "They'll never accept you. So when you get sorted into Slytherin, you better watch out."

Without replying, Scorpius slammed the door shut and stalked off down the corridor, wondering just how true Cailan's words might be.


End file.
